


It's Not a Zoo

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24351832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “But if not to issue a warning about my suitcase, can I ask why you’ve decided to pay a visit?”“Picquery,” Graves began, “thinks I should find something to do unrelated to work. A hobby.”Alternatively: Graves volunteers to help Newt with his beasts while on one of his trips in New York.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1: Newt, Himself

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have anything to say...I just wrote this and kinda had fun with it :p! As a quick note I'm not really involved in the HP fandom and haven't seen the second Fantastic Beasts movie... so let's just say this fic starts off after the end of the first movie and life is peaceful in the wizarding world :B. Enjoy!

Newt was never prepared for company.

Animals were unpredictable, which, for a man like Newt Scamander, made them easy to read. Though they were unpredictable, they depended on instincts, instincts that Newt had read up on and studied for years and years. He knew when to bait smaller animals with treats and shiny objects, he knew when to make eye contact with huge beasts that tried to challenge him, and he knew all sorts of tricks to make beasts jump and run in circles. But nothing could ever prepare him for people of any sort-not Tina, or Queenie, or even Jacob, sometimes. Wizard or human, they hid how they felt behind fake smiles, or metaphorical walls, or a strange combination of both that Newt never had any luck even beginning to understand.

So he didn’t try to understand wizards or humans, and in turn, they didn’t try to understand him. He was fine with that, mostly. It was only a struggle when someone needed to talk to him, and luckily that almost never happened.

Unfortunately, this was not a lucky day for him.

Newt stepped out of his suitcase only to blink in surprise at the sight of a wand pointed directly in between his eyes.

“Scamander,” he heard, and leaned back until he could see who was in front of him. His breath caught in his throat, first in fear, and then surprise. Of course it wasn’t Grindelwald. Not this time. Grindelwald didn’t have the subtle scars on his face, nor the one that dragged down from his jaw to his neck. Newt shuddered at the sight of that one.

Percival Graves had been found at long last, barely alive, and shackled in one of New York’s run-down apartments after a desperate search that went on for almost a week. It was the talk of the papers for some time, apparently, according to Jacob and Tina, who Newt kept up with through letters and the occasional visit like the one he was on right now. Newt had questioned how Grindelwald had gotten away with it for so long, and in her crisp handwriting Tina had somewhat sheepishly confessed that nobody suspected anything wrong because the real Percival Graves was just as distant and aloof as the fake. She had, however, added that Grindelwald in disguise smiled much more than the real Graves did.

Despite the scars, there was no denying it. Percival Graves looked good and powerful, having appeared to have recovered well from the time he spent as Grindelwald's hostage. However, Newt was unsure as to why the man was currently standing in front of him, weapon drawn at the ready. The man seemed frozen in place, and Newt slowly raised his hands up, taking the rest of the stairs to get out of the suitcase while Graves watched. He had just finished feeding his animals and putting them to sleep and was ready for a nap himself.

“Um...Good evening, Mr. Graves.”

The auror nodded, then smoothly put his wand away as if he wasn’t just wielding it against Newt. “Hello. Goldstein said I might find you in here. I didn’t hear your steps over the din of your...pets.”

“My creatures,” Newt corrected, dusting himself off and turning to lock the suitcase. He paused, then looked up at Graves from under his hair. “Tina...wait, were you looking for me? I was-none of my creatures have gotten out, they’re all accounted for currently-”

“I didn’t come here to harass you about your suitcase. Although I do remember Picquery telling me to let you know she’s well aware of your presence back in New York, and that she trusts you to be on your best behavior.”

Newt’s face flushed, and he lifted his suitcase, holding it in front of himself like it could form a wall to hide from Graves’ stony expression. “Message received, loud and clear,” he squeaked out, eyes downcast as he fiddled with the latches of his suitcase. “But if not to issue a warning about my suitcase, can I ask why you’ve decided to pay a visit?”

When he chanced another glance up, he was shocked to see Graves’ expression had changed-in specific, his mouth was pulled in a tight scowl.

“Picquery,” he began, “thinks I should find something to do unrelated to work. A hobby.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Newt enjoyed hobbies. Writing was a hobby of his. He was only days away from finishing his book and sending it off to hopefully be published. The thought filled him up with so much excitement he bounced on his toes and cast a quick smile in Graves’ direction, hoping he looked encouraging.

“That’s not a terribly bad idea. I’m not sure I could be much help in finding one for you, though?”

Graves rolled his eyes. Instantly Newt’s burst of happiness disappeared as if hiding from the terrifying auror glaring down at him, and even before Graves could say anything, Newt knew the point had gone over his head a mile high.

“Goldstein was in the room and recommended volunteering for your little ‘zoo’.”

“I-zoo?” Newt straightened up considerably at that, and Graves blinked in surprise at his sudden change in demeanor. “I don’t run a zoo, Mr. Graves. I’m appalled that you would even consider-that you would think I would. My animals are not pretty things to gawk at. They’re here for rehabilitation, and a chance to return to the wilderness where they belong.”

“I...right,” Mr. Graves said, reaching one hand up to run through his hair. His hair remained slightly mussed, but it didn’t detract from how proper he looked beyond that.

“My apologies.”

Newt simply stared at him, and then as if a switch had been flicked on his eyes darted downward and his shoulders hunched again, as if he was trying to shrink in size. Graves apologizing was unexpected. But then again, Newt had only spoken to this man once or twice in passing before.

“Anyways,” Newt said at last, trying to ignore the feeling of Graves’ stare on him. “You don’t have to, um. Help. If they’re making you. I’m quite good at taking care of the animals on my own, I assure you, and there won’t be any suitcase slip-ups.”

“Well,” Mr. Graves said, taking another long look at the suitcase in Newt’s hands as if he was attempting to pop it open with his mind. “I don’t doubt your first point, at least.”

Newt attempted to smile at the joke, only to realize a second too late that Graves’ expression hadn’t changed, and oh, he was serious. He really did not trust Newt or his suitcase one bit. Ever the conversationalist, Newt jerked his head in a shaky nod. Tina would probably chew him out later for letting Graves talk down to him, but in the moment, Newt felt like a child getting reprimanded and just wanted to go hide in his suitcase to avoid that deathly glare directed right at him and his most prized possession. After a moment, though, Graves’ eyes rose back up to him instead of the suitcase. Though they were dark and, moments before seemed dangerous, it was not the case now. They were serious, and earnest, searching him for his reactions. Newt had been inspected like this by the fake Graves. It felt completely different, and he was glad for the change.

“It’s not a command, Mr. Scamander-”

“Just Newt, if you will.”

Graves paused. “It’s not a command, Newt. Goldstein said this suitcase is your home. I won’t intrude if you would rather me not, nor would I blame you for being uncomfortable around me.”

Newt gawked at him. “Why would I be uncomfortable around you?”

Graves laughed, but the sound was cold and sharp. “You don’t need to act naive, Newt. Even my own team of aurors acts differently around me after the Grindelwald incident.” The statement made Newt’s heart squeeze in sympathy.

“It wasn’t your fault, though,” he said at last. “He-I mean, it was-even Tina told me that he-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Graves said. “I was kidnapped, but at least he didn’t waste any time trying to trick me. For the past few months, they confided in that bastard, let him grow on them, only to discover his real identity. They don’t trust me anymore. He wore my face to commit his crimes.” To Newt’s dismay, he realized the plain way Graves spoke about his situation meant that he simply didn’t find it worth defending himself anymore. Who would believe him, now? Newt would. Simple as that. It wasn’t just animals that deserved second chances, after all.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” he said at last. “Well. Not as much as most other humans do, at least.”

To his immense surprise Graves let out a startled snort at that. It was the closest to a real laugh Newt had ever heard from him.

“And I could always use some help tending to my animals," he added. "It’s up to them whether or not they trust you, though.”

“I’d like a chance to prove myself to them, then.” Newt smiled at Graves before he was even truly aware of it. “I look forward to it as well, Mr. Graves.”


	2. The Niffler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graves meets his first suitcase resident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter twoooo! i'm surprised the fandom is even active enough for me to get any kudos, let alone bookmarks or comments.. so i'm really happy! i'm not really sure about the pacing of this fic... if it wasn't obvious it's meant to be a more light-hearted read (with a bigger focus on just letting me write about animals lol, something i don't think i've ever done in a fic before), and i don't really have a heavy plot in mind besides the eventual romance. i'll see where it goes! i hope y'all enjoy!

Two days later, Newt was pacing the guest bedroom when he heard Queenie call out in surprise. “Mr. Graves, so wonderful to see you again! It’s been some time since we were able to chat.”

He burst out of the room, screeching to a halt just in front of the doorway. Graves was just pulling his hat off and setting it on the coat rack by the door, raising an eyebrow at Newt. “Good afternoon.”

“Hi,” he said, glancing at Queenie. She was staring at him and he felt that gentle prodding as she focused on his mind. 

_ Stop it _ , he thought harshly, and she tutted at him and shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry, Newt. Your thoughts are all over the place and so frantic, I could practically hear them in the other room-”

“Queenie,” Newt pleaded, raising his eyebrows at her imploringly. “Enough. Please.”

“Legilimens,” Graves said. “I almost forgot. Good seeing you as well, Ms. Goldstein.”

“It’s Queenie when I’m not at work,” she corrected with a gentle smile. Newt reached over to Graves, gently pulling on the sleeve of his coat to hurry him along to the bedroom before Queenie could pry any further into either of them.

“Well,” Newt said, standing in front of his suitcase. "Here it is."

Graves was staring down at it with him, expression unreadable. Inside, there was the distant bellow of the erumpent. Newt winced at the noise.

“My creatures know how to behave themselves,” he said, undoing the clasps and stepping into the case. “If you take care and follow me, I’ll introduce you to a few of them.”

“Sounds good.”

Newt’s feet touched down gently on the dusty floor of his office. He meant to clean up some before letting Graves in, but it was a little too late now. 

“I apologize for Queenie,” he called up, as Graves made his way down the ladder. “She just speaks what’s on her mind, I suppose. Or others’ minds.”

“She tried to read mine,” Graves said, not noticing Newt’s look of dismay. “Didn’t let her. I wouldn’t be a director if I didn’t know how to keep that from happening.”

“That’s true.” Graves dusted himself off, glancing at the room and the unmade bed shoved in the corner, much to Newt’s further embarrassment. He hurriedly motioned towards the door. “Right, let’s go on through here.” 

“I’ve heard there’s more in this suitcase than I can imagine. Much more.”

Newt nodded. It had been a while since he had let anyone new meet his creatures-they took well to Tina and Jacob, and some got along charmingly well with Queenie, but beyond that, Newt rarely let anyone see the beasts. There were too many risks, especially with younger wizards who were threatened and lashed out when a creature simply got too close to them. But Graves was...different. He knew how to control magic well, but more importantly, he knew how to control himself even better. 

“Good. I like being impressed.”

Newt’s head jerked up and he knew his face was turning pink, but Graves made no mention of it, even though they made eye contact. 

“N-now, I should warn you, Mr. Graves, some of them-they might act rambunctious, but they don’t mean ill will to you. It’s not in their blood to hurt others for the sake of hurting them. Only humans enjoy that.”

“I understand. Grindelwald didn’t bother to learn about these creatures. I, at least, am willing to try.”

He followed Newt to the door. “And Picquery might have a point. If I get held hostage again, I should hope maybe your animals could recognize the difference if I hang around long enough.” The ghost of a scowl crossed his features. “Nobody at MACUSA could do it, after all.”

Even though the tone wasn’t directed at him, it was still sharp enough to nearly make Newt wince. Graves either didn’t notice or didn’t care, instead turning around in a slow circle to examine Newt’s office while he unlocked the door. However, the second the door opened there was a loud pattering noise and a blur running in between their feet. Newt whipped around to see Graves looking around, confused.

“Um, not to worry! Honest. This is one of those particularly pesky beasts. He means no harm.”

The niffler paused in its hunt for shiny materials to simply stare at Newt from atop his desk, then growl when he took a step closer. One more step and it was off again, running circles around him and Graves. Newt lunged at it, though he missed by a mile and crashed to the floor in a spectacular fashion. Loose notes and drawings on paper fluttered around him like falling leaves.

“Should I help?” Graves asked, and if Newt could take a look at his face, he would see the bemused expression the director wore.

“N-no, it’s all right, I’ve got it. He gets worn out easily. Only a matter of minutes.”

Newt sat up, catching his breath while he tried to find where the niffler had disappeared to. Graves cleared his throat suddenly, and before Newt could speak, he heard an indignant squeak behind him. He turned to see the niffler sitting just under his desk, holding onto a gold coin. 

“Where on earth,” Newt began, standing up, but Graves held up a hand to stop him from moving towards the little beast.

“Chocolate coin,” Graves said, voice smug as the niffler grabbed at the foiled edges of the candy and began to tear it off. “I heard you had several problems with your niffler pillaging my city. I thought I should come prepared.”

The niffler glared at them both, stuffing the foil in his pouch before running back out the door.

“We might as well continue introducing you to him,” Newt said, motioning for Graves to finally follow him out the door. “The coin isn’t the only thing he’s tried to steal today.”

“How do you know?”

Newt glanced back at Graves, offering a sheepish grin. “I caught him in Queenie’s jewelry box this morning.”

The niffler was sulking, turned away from Newt and Graves while Newt fished in his den for the silver necklaces and rings it had nabbed earlier. 

“I told you,” Newt scolded. “I’ve told you many times! You don’t steal from either Tina or Queenie. They’re nice to you.”

The niffler growled, and Newt scoffed as he reached his hand in further to scratch its head in consolation. “So dramatic,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Mr. Graves knows all about you already, so you can’t try any more funny pranks on him.”

“Can I-”

Newt turned to the auror, waiting for him to continue. It wasn’t like Graves to hesitate or backtrack, but here he was now, shaking his head in dismissal. “If you have a question about the niffler, it’s all right to ask. What is it?”

“No, I just...wanted to know if it was okay to touch it. I know it’s not a pet, but you seem to...well. I was just curious.”

Oh. Newt wanted to beam at the director, but knew the older man would probably get defensive about it if he overreacted. “Of course. Would you like to pet him? He enjoys it.”

Graves seemed ready to shake his head, but Newt was already stepping back, letting the director take his place peering into the den. 

“Don’t be too quick,” Newt murmured, leaning over Graves’ shoulder as he reached a hand in. “He startles easily with strangers.”

It took Graves a moment to answer, as if he was distracted with his own thoughts. "...right. Got it."

The niffler paused in its sniffing as it felt a foreign hand against its fur, offering a warning growl. Graves tried to pull his hand away but Newt squeezed his shoulder, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Let him adjust.”

The cautionary growl softened into curious snuffles as it leaned back into Graves’ open hand. Newt smiled in relief as the niffler wiggled around until it was facing them both, sniffling into Graves' offered palm.

“Good,” Newt said, fighting back the urge to bounce on his toes in joy. “Wow. He’s taken with you.”

Graves scoffed, and the niffler froze before dashing up along his arm. Caught off guard, Graves took a step back into Newt, colliding against him. Newt was alarmed, both with the niffler and Graves’ sudden reaction, but steadied the director with one hand on his back. He looked around, trying to catch sight of the niffler once more. It had disappeared again. 

“You’re all right,” he said to Graves, after making sure the niffler didn't actually hurt him in its haste. The last thing Newt wanted to do was coddle the man. “I’m not entirely sure why he did that. Or where he might’ve gone off to this time.”

“I think I know the answer to the second question,” Graves said wryly, then pointedly looked down. Newt followed his movement to realize there was a shaking bundle now in his coat's pocket, and the tell-tale sound of the niffler’s sniffling.

“I’m so sorry,” Newt began, prepared to reach into the pocket and reprimand the little beast for causing more trouble. “He’s so difficult to control-”

“It’s okay.”

Newt paused, looking up at Graves. “If he doesn’t move, then you don’t have to worry about him trying to rob anyone else or break out of your suitcase, right?”

Newt took a moment to respond. He was mostly just shocked at how okay Graves was with the disturbance. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that Graves wanted the niffler at his side because he liked it. But there was no way  _ the  _ Percival Graves would be okay with any animals bothering him, judging by how Tina and the other aurors that worked for him talked about him. As far as Newt had heard, Graves was a man that hated fun and good things in life almost as much as he hated criminals. 

“Of course, if you don’t mind,” Newt said quickly, only just remembering that Graves had asked a question. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Positive?”

Graves rolled his eyes, but there was no irritation in his face. “Yes, Newt. It’s fine. You said your creatures don’t mean any harm. I trust you.”

Newt’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting such open honesty, but it made him blush and want to duck his head so Graves wouldn’t see how pleased he was to hear it. Trusted him? Of all people! It was a laughable notion. Newt could almost swear if he retold this moment to Tina or Jacob, they'd call him a liar.

“Don’t zone out on me now,” Graves said, snapping his fingers in front of Newt’s face to drag his attention back to the present. “I think I’d be royally fucked if you left me alone here.”

Newt let out a breathy laugh. “Just a bit, Mr. Graves. Come on, then, this way.”

He knew it was silly, but he was excited. Excited to introduce his animals to someone who respected them, excited to have someone willing to help take care of them, and strangely of all, he was most excited to get a chance to know more of the Mr. Graves that was okay with a niffler hiding in his pocket instead of the Mr. Graves that all the aurors made him out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked this fic please leave a comment! maybe talking about your favorite part or if you want a highlight on any specific creatures... i'm excited to write about Dougal and ESPECIALLY the Nundu.. I'm considering buying the next movie to see more of the beasts.. I really truly love how the Zouwu looks as well but like :) that's more plot I'd have to adjust for! aaaa it's so tempting though... anyways that's it! Thank you for reading, there's more to come!


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